


Aftercare

by verucasalt123



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Bathing/Washing, Injury, M/M, Sibling Incest, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-21
Updated: 2014-01-21
Packaged: 2018-01-09 13:04:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1146334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verucasalt123/pseuds/verucasalt123
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sammy taking care of Dean after a hunt. </p><p>This was written for my kink prompt table, reposting here with a requested timestamp.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aftercare

**Author's Note:**

  * For [saltandbyrne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltandbyrne/gifts).



> Podfic here: http://soundcloud.com/saltandbyrne/aftercare

It happened over a small period of time, just months, but one of them was ready with a completely valid reason for their father to leave them _alone_ any time they wanted. It was almost surprising, the ease with which John Winchester accepted being relegated to the metaphorical backseat when one or both of his boys needed caring for. They cared for each other now. He just didn’t know (or didn’t want to know) how far that care extended.

When Sam saw his father and brother limping into the room scratched and bruised, he immediately discarded his battered copy of Lord of the Flies in favor of assessing the damage. Nothing life-threatening, okay. This hunt had been dangerous enough that Sam had been left behind. He had turned thirteen weeks before and he’d been on hunts before, but John drew the line at certain types of hunts, thinking little Sammy wasn’t ready yet.

After reassurance from John that he and his brother were both all right, Sam’s gaze settled directly on Dean, his intent exceptionally clear (certainly to Dean, maybe to John, whatever). 

Dean caught on quickly. “I just need to get cleaned up, is all. I’m okay, Sammy.”

Before their father had a chance to intervene, Sam started leading Dean toward the bathroom of their motel room. “I’ll help him if he needs help, Dad. Hey, why don’t you have a drink?” Sam took the ever-present bottle of Beam and poured a healthy measure into the clear plastic cup by the sink. Handing it to his perplexed father, he continued, “Relax, I’ve got this.”

No more conversation was necessary as John sat on the bed and accepted his younger son’s offer and the two of them closed the bathroom door behind them. 

Sam knew their dad wasn’t going to just have the one drink. That’s not the way it worked. He also knew he wasn’t going to just help Dean get cleaned up. That’s not the way _this_ worked, either.

Filling up the tub, Dean removed his torn clothes with just a few winces of discomfort. He settled into the warm water and closed his eyes, just listening to the rustling of clothes as his baby brother was getting naked. When he glanced up again, Sam was kneeling next to the bathtub, holding a washcloth and leaning over to kiss him. “So glad you’re okay, Dean. Was worried about you.” 

“Yeah, m’okay, better now.” He moved his arms around Sam’s tiny shoulders and pulled him in closer, accepting another kiss and making it deeper, more intense. 

Sam moved back, saying, “You do need to get cleaned up, Dean. At least for a minute, before I get you all messy again”, with a sly grin that _did not belong_ on the face of a barely thirteen year old boy. He soaped up the washcloth, cleaning Dean’s face first, then moving to his chest, bursting with pride with the choked out whimpers that resulted when he ran the cloth over his brother’s nipples a little longer than necessary. He took his time, first with Dean’s arms, then with his legs, intermittently stopping to kiss his mouth or lick his neck or bite his collarbone. 

He could see that Dean was hard, could feel his hips bucking up at almost every touch, though Sam carefully avoided touching Dean’s cock until his brother was squirming under every touch. 

Carefully listening for sounds in the room beyond their locked door and hearing nothing, Sam climbed into the tub with Dean, straddling his hips and grinding his own hard cock against his brother’s. There were still times when he felt so inadequate – Dean was _big_ , and Sam knew he was so small in comparison. He didn’t feel that tonight, though. Dean’s thorough enjoyment of their activities before this had garnered his self-confidence. All he could do was take in the way Dean sounded, knowing the effect his actions were creating. Seating himself fully in Dean’s lap, he leaned in again and captured Dean’s mouth with his own, swallowing down any noise that might have been loud enough to rouse their father as he pushed harder, moving himself up and down on his brother’s lap, pressing against his huge cock.

Maybe he’d have a dick like that one day, he hoped.

For now, he just held on tight, finding just the right mix of friction and movement, until he felt Dean go still underneath him. He almost sounded like he was choking on his own breath as he came, which made Sam so dizzy with lust that he followed him only seconds later. 

Looking down at Dean’s blissed-out expression and totally relaxed posture, Sam felt triumphant. Yeah, he could do this, he could take Dean to pieces right there in the motel bathtub with their father yards away and none the wiser. 

He learned from the best, after all.

**REQUESTED TIMESTAMP (POV John Winchester)**

John woke up with a hangover just as the sun was starting to lighten the sky. The scratches on his arm had been cleaned and bandaged, which he didn't remember, but figured one of the boys had done it. 

Ignoring his pounding headache, he turned to his left and saw Dean in the other bed. His wounds had been tended to as well, and his hair was still a little wet like he'd been in the bath or the shower. Sam was asleep next to his brother, as usual, sprawled out and with one foot hanging off the edge of the bed. 

He could only get little bits and pieces of last night; coming back into the room, Sam offering to get Dean cleaned up, and then...had Sam given him a drink? John knew he'd been sitting on the bed with a drink, a healthy pour of whiskey, and he hadn't gotten it himself. Sam hated it when John had too much to drink, though, it didn't make any sense...

Now that there was a little more light in the room, it looked like Sammy's hair was wet, too. His vision was still a little blurry. Maybe he wasn't really as awake as he thought he was.

John closed his eyes and fell back to sleep.


End file.
